


Whale Song Through the Ether

by stuffbyshelbyfics



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, Hypnosis, hhhhhhh i'm Shy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-19 02:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14865218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffbyshelbyfics/pseuds/stuffbyshelbyfics
Summary: Stanford Pines and Jheselbraum the Unswerving fall in love.





	Whale Song Through the Ether

She had found him in a distant and dim portion of the cosmos, stuck with his head halfway through the Second Dimension. She’d sent her mind through the multiverse and had seen him from below, struggling to extricate himself and make himself heard to the Exwhylians. The sounds of pain coming from his mouth, stuck outside their two-dimensional plane, soon indicated that the “Flatlanders" had begun their attack. With a flick of her hand she had flung him downwards, away from that small, sharp world, down to where she could take him to her home.

What a day that had been, Jheselbraum mused. She was sitting presently in her private chambers, absentmindedly removing her outer garments as she reminisced. There was a purpose to her actions, however; she was expecting someone tonight.

It had taken surprisingly little to convince Stanford to go through with the metal plate surgery. After the initial surprise, he’d agreed almost instantly. He’d later credited his quick decision to the thin mountain air. She’d suspected something else, and one night had put him in a trance to ask him the truth. That memory made her momentarily hesitate, but her thoughts were interrupted by a shy knock at her door.

“Come in,” she called, leaving her reverie behind her with a warm smile. The heavy door opened to reveal Stanford’s bashful face, blushing with affection and anticipation. He reddened further when he glimpsed her half-nude state, wearing only a pair of billowy underwear and the loose remains of her robes wrapped around her upper body. She patted a spot next to her on the bed, and Ford eagerly hurried over to sit beside her and began to nervously undress himself. His progress was halted by Jheselbraum’s gentle hand enclosing his own.

“Are you sure?” she asked softly, her seven eyes filled with love and reassurance. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I do, I do,” he said, gripping her hand back enthusiastically. “Only if you want to, of course.”

Her smile widened, and she shed the rest of her clothes, laying her hands on his bare waist. Thoughts of the recent past could wait, she thought, as she tenderly laid the both of them down on her expansive bed.

 

Stanford’s first awakening in Dimension 52 was the first in many years to be comfortable. He fought his way out of unconsciousness and flailed out of the thick, soft sheets, and found himself in a mountain top shrine, the peaks outside topped with groves of trees, aged and chiseled by the years of weather. However, the view was nothing compared to the sight of the being standing over his bed, gazing down at him with seven captivating eyes.

She’d introduced herself as Jheselbraum the Unswerving, and had volunteered the information that she knew who he was and what his mission was. He’d been suspicious at first, of course, but as soon as she’d mentioned a way to keep Bill Cipher out of his mind forever, his interest had been piqued. While she described the surgery he’d have to undergo to protect his brain, his decision was made. After all his dismal travels, what more did he have to lose?

A few hours later, he was sitting strapped to a chair with bands holding his wrists and ankles to the legs and arms, another band around his chest, and one more would secure his forehead to the strange headrest sitting at the top of the chair. Jheselbraum’s assistants readied the operation equipment, complete with a thin metal plate that would bend to fit the contours of his skull and block Bill’s mental influences, and the oracle herself kept her hands on his shoulders, apparently trying to steady his nerves. Stanford’s jaw was clenched tight, his bound hands balled into fists. Despite his eagerness to go through with the surgery, tension was running through his body like a cold tidal wave. His scalp had been shaved bald to better protect the incision from infection, and the cold air made the bare skin prickle. He could feel bubbles of panic start to rise to the surface of his mind, and strained futilely against his restraints. In the back of his head he could hear the high-pitched, echoey voice that he’d learned to associate with terror and pain…

_Oh no, not her again! Get out of here, Sixer! We can’t have you shut off from your good old pal Bill!_

As Stanford squirmed desperately, Jheselbraum’s hands moved from his shoulders to either side of his head, and her fingertips began to rub in slow, easy circles.

“Relax,” she murmured, “He won’t be here for long.”

Her tone had a force behind it that Ford couldn’t name, and her hands and voice combined had the same effect on his mind as a heavy sedative. With every gentle circle he could feel his thoughts drifting farther and farther away, and the shiny surgical tools sitting on the small table nearby began to look less threatening. If he wasn’t strapped to the chair, he would have been swaying in his seat. As he closed his heavy eyes, he barely felt the final band being secured across his forehead to keep him still during the operation, and he sighed dreamily as Jheselbraum took him deeper. Finally he was completely tranquil and silent, utterly lost in her spell.

It felt like it had been only a few minutes when Stanford awoke, still bound in the operation chair. Several other purple-skinned humanoids similar in appearance to Jheselbraum started to untie him and clean their equipment, discussing the surgical aftermath with their employer. His brain felt as if it was filled with warm clouds, and as he tried to stand, his legs refused to work and buckled under him. He was immediately surrounded by the beings’ seven-eyed gazes, widened with concern as they lifted him to deposit him back in the chair, but he feebly curbed their ministrations and staggered towards the door.

“Thanks for your help,” he mumbled, his legs trying to collapse as he stumbled, “I should really go…”

Jheselbraum strode after him and scooped him up, easily supporting his lesser weight. “What you need now is rest, Stanford,” she scolded him mildly, “That metal plate won’t be of any use if you’re not strong enough to walk.”

He spent the entire next day in bed, sluggishly accepting the medicines and fresh bandages Jheselbraum brought to him, and pondering the reason for his quick choice; a topic she had also questioned him about. She’d told him of the unavoidable dangers of the procedure, of what might happen if it went wrong, and he’d managed to convince her the thin air had quickened his thought processes, but the truth of the matter was that he was tired. Finding a way to kill Bill had become his whole life’s purpose, and he wasn’t at all sure what he’d do after his goal had been realized. The constant cycle of survival - entering a new dimension, scavenging or stealing what food he could, scrounging for supplies to develop his Quantum Destabilizer, running from authorities corrupted by Bill’s promise of power, and repeat - had left him exhausted and weary. He’d go days without sleep, only eating enough to keep from starving, drinking only when his body was screaming for water in order to preserve his supplies and keep his mind sharp. It had turned out to have the opposite effect; his mind had dulled, his muscles weakened, the extended days of planets with constant daytime and the eternal twilight of the outer cosmos had stretched and blended together in a blur. He’d pass through dimensions, barely registering its name or mode of currency, wandering the streets or the wildernesses in a fog. Living seemed to have little difference from death, and when Jheselbraum had asked him to try a surgery that had only been attempted a few times with an even lower rate of success, there had been, in his opinion, little at stake.

His slump was short-lived, however; Jheselbraum’s medicines and care soon lightened his spirits and restored his strength. They’d often converse about each other’s pasts and about the path of destruction left in Bill’s wake, and occasionally take walks in her private gardens and discuss her people’s culture and biology. Ford learned that Jheselbraum’s species had exsquisitely sensitive skin that they utilized in psychic and empathic interactions with other beings, as well as a finely tuned ability to change the color and pattern of their many eyes. She demonstrated both of these capacities for him, much to his fascination and excitement. Having her run her fingers over his skin felt like being lightly grazed with tingling electric wands, and the shifting hues of her eyes swathed him in a private universe of benign intimacy. They’d shared their minds with each other, and their hearts were soon to follow.

The slow transition from collaborators for a common cause to hesitant new lovers was perhaps more tumultuous for Jheselbraum than it was for Stanford. In her task as an oracle, she was able to foresee almost every event in the near future, and was able to prepare accordingly for the many bedraggled travelers that passed through her realm, each on their own quest. Stanford’s journey had ventured closer to her heart than she’d anticipated; her dimension had not been free of Bill’s calamitous presence, and he was drawing nearer to ending his reign of terror than any other had ever come. And as much as she tried to distance herself from her visitors’ anxieties, there was something about the human that she found herself intrigued by. The conflict of his dedication to his undertaking with his slowly diminishing sense of worth drew her sympathy like a moth to a flame, and their partnership was quickly becoming something else. The fact that she hadn’t predicted this, however, had deeply rattled Jheselbraum. The Axolotl’s gift of foresight was her anchor in a rapidly changing universe, and to have such an important element fall outside her field of vision was genuinely disturbing. This was not to say that she wasn’t attracted to Stanford; the first time she’d seen him in the Second Dimension she’d had to blink several times to make sure her eyes weren’t shrouded in some sort of pink fog.

Ford’s private rationale for how he’d found himself falling for Jheselbraum was much simpler. She’d begun to approach him, and he’d discovered no reason to rebuke her advances. Even if he’d ever be able to return to his own dimension, his chances of ever reconciling with Fiddleford were remote in the extreme. There was no way his former lover would be able to forgive him after the way he’d ended the relationship, so why not try to move on? He’d already punished himself enough, and the distant (but still fond) memories of the love he and Fiddleford had shared paled in comparison to Jheselbraum’s grounding presence.

Stanford’s growing affinity for Jheselbraum’s hypnotic powers was also quickly becoming a helpful tool in stabilizing their relationship. She had once spent an entire afternoon lying beside her partner as he drifted ever deeper, making sure his breathing remained steady and occasionally adjusting his position to make him more comfortable, and giving him suggestions to keep him relaxed and happy. It looked to be the only time in some years that he’d gotten at least an hour of real rest, and she’d let him doze for much of the day. He’d need lots of sleep if he was going to be able to take down their shared enemy.

One afternoon, Jheselbraum was feeling more cheerful than usual, and she took Stanford with her to the city just down the mountain. They visited the public bathhouse, where she caught up with her old friends and where he was greeted by curious natives and interdimensional travelers, all there to bathe and relax. All of the inhabitants of Dimension 52 had beautiful wavy hair in varying tints of purple, but Ford had seen that Jheselbraum was quite bald under her hood, and didn’t seem to have any other body hair. He wondered if she ever missed it.

Some many-limbed beings approached him with wide eyes and voices kept reverentially low, asking him about what he planned to do to destroy Bill Cipher. He tried his best to keep his objective a secret, but he couldn’t help feeling a little famous as the other trans-universal oddballs flocked around him in the warm, clear waters of the bathhouse. Echoes of laughter bounced between the tiled walls and mixed with good-natured calls cast over the mosaic-covered barriers, and the two suns baked the glass tiles as they slowly traveled through the sky.

The two of them ambled down to the beach, where the azure sea rushed up the roasting beach as beings of all sorts lay on the sand and dipped into the cold waters. The suns heated Stanford’s skin, their doubled heat drawing sweat to his forehead and his back. The sight of the ocean brought back bittersweet memories, but Jheselbraum took his arm and gently led him towards the waves, her flowing bathing suit ruffling in the coastal wind. They waded through the water together, Ford stirring the rocky sand with his feet and occasionally plucking a strange sea star or urchin from the bottom to show to his companion. As the water became deeper, they began to swim, leisurely paddling beside one another, pulling each other back up if one started to float too far behind. Ford found it incredibly easy to let himself be towed by Jheselbraum as he glided slowly through the salty water, stupefied by the suns’ dazzling display on the ocean. She hooked an arm over an inflatable bed floating nearby, one of many that Ford had seen others using back at the beach, and pulled the both of them onto it, with his head resting on her chest. Her fingers traveled over his fuzzy scalp, leaving trails of soft mental slush where they passed. He’d remember that time years later as one of the best days of his life.

 

It was in the evening of that perfect day, after she’d invited him into her bed, where Stanford and Jheselbraum found themselves now. Ford wriggled out of the rest of his clothes, kicking his way under the sheets of Jheselbraum’s bed as she tightened her hold on him. Her hands moved across his face, caressing his cheeks and stroking the skin under his eyes with her thumbs, and she leaned further down to press her lips to his. Their hips slowly swiveled and rocked in unison, spreading warmth through both of their bodies as her long eyelashes brushed his blushing cheeks. Every inch of Ford’s skin tingled, and muscles that had grown stiff and sore over the years became loose and relaxed. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer, pushing his hips up into hers, and making them both gasp with delight. Jheselbraum gently slid his eyes open once more and gazed lovingly down at him, taking him deeper into trance than he’d ever been before. Ford moaned against her lips, sinking further into the sea of warmth contained in the expanding, altering colors of her eyes, and trying to hide the ridiculous, dazed smile spreading across his face. So complete was his trust in her that he’d have walked off of a cliff if she’d asked him to. He wanted desperately to please her, and rolled the two of them over so that he could kiss her thighs. Her contented sigh was music to his ears, and she continued to rub her fingers over his scalp. The night air seemed to glow softly as the evening wound on, and the small hours of the early morning dimmed and became a warm blur…

Jheselbraum was awoken by one of her attendants, gently patting her head.

“Good morning, my lady,” they murmured, tenderly smoothing the soft sheets, “Adronicus’ new comedy starts in an hour and a half, if you’d like to see it.”

Jheselbraum smiled sleepily, stretching each of her long limbs under the covers. “Thank you, my dear.”

She waited until they had padded out to pull the blankets back, revealing Stanford curled up beside her and still fast asleep.

“It’s time to wake up, Stanford,” she whispered with a smile, tracing a finger along his slack jaw. Her partner slowly stirred, reaching out blindly to find her hand and squeezed it muzzily, and rubbed his eyes. At last, he met her gaze and smiled back, kissing her hand fondly.

“Good morning,” he mumbled blearily, his expression becoming more anxious as his mind cleared. “Did - uh, did you like it?”

Her smile widened as she leaned in to kiss his forehead. “I liked it very much.”


End file.
